


It's OK

by ScotlandEvander



Series: Various States [24]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Baking, Europe, F/M, Finding home, Friendship/Love, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Recovered Memories, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 16:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11924598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScotlandEvander/pseuds/ScotlandEvander
Summary: After deciding he'd be better off alone in a crappy apartment in a strange city, Sebastian Barnes gets a visitor.





	It's OK

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. Long time no update. Why? A combo of things I'll go into more on my tumblr page when I get time. HOWEVER, here is the FINAL installment BEFORE my Civil War story. 
> 
> *throws update at you along with a cookie*
> 
> Also, "Everything is Awesome" is written by Shawn Patterson, Jo Li, and The Lonely Island

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I don’t own it.**

 

* * *

_And all the noise I hear inside / Restless and loud, unspoken and wild / And all that you need to say / To make it go away / Is that you feel the same way too_

_-Christina Perri, “The Words”_

* * *

It’d happened while he was in Mexico City. Some HYDRA faction (or something) caught up with him, capturing him and shooting him up with drugs in an attempt to make him into the Winter Solider.

The drugs did something, just not what the people who’d captured him wanted.

Memories flooded into his mind, seventy years worth of foggy, broken, horrible memories. 

He knew there was a way to make him into the Winter Solider once again. There was a red book with ten Russian words. Drugs couldn’t make him what these people wanted, only that damn notebook.

Triggers.

His mind was full of bombs.

He let it fully hit him all once he was out from under the thumb of the faction. (He’d wanted to leave them alive for Steve to find, but tragically that didn’t go too well when he used their tranquilizers against them. Kinda killed them. Clearly their drugs weren’t for normal people.)

He couldn’t go back. Triggers, memories, murders…fog.

Bucky.

James.

The Solider.

Zola.

The Soviets.

The thousands of murders.

The high profile assassinations.

The assassinations that looked like accidents.

Organizing the fall of the Soviet Union as it’d lived out its use.

The orange haired crazy witch shouting at him in the rain. 

Same crazy witch appearing in his daze decades before to tell him Stevie was on his way.

Howard. He’d killed Howard Stark. And his poor wife, who wasn’t supposed to be there.

He remembered shooting Natasha Romanoff in order to kill the mark.

He remembered everyone he’d killed, injured, or maimed in his quest to complete his missions as if he was watching it through a crappy TV.

He’d done it all. It was him. Sure, they’d tried to removed his memories, sure they’d brainwashed him, but…he’d done it. He’d agreed to do it. He’d known what he’d been doing when he’d done it. Yeah, sure he thought it was for the greater good, to bring world peace, to prevent something horrible from happening.

He had been the horrible thing, the nightmare, the ghost killer wiping out world leaders quietly and silently.

Until silence was thought to be no longer needed.

Boy, was that stupid of HYDRA.

It took him a week to pick himself up off the grimy floor of the factory he’d collapsed in outside of the city limits. He knew he looked and smelled horrible. Even the homeless drug addicts who squatted in the factory avoided him. By the time he picked himself up off the ground, he had a full beard loaded with lice and fleas and his once glorious hair was matted and stuck to his head.

He dragged himself to a what appeared to be a pharmacy and bought razors, shampoo for the fleas and lice, and lighter fluid. At another shop, he bought new clothes. It took several hours, but by the time he was done, he looked like a crazed mad man with no hair. He set his old clothing on fire along with the passport for Sebastian Stan. It broke his heart to give up the life of Sebastian Stan, but it was no longer his to live. He could never claim that man’s life, that man’s name. He left the ashes on the floor, mixed in with the grim, oil, dirt, feces, urine, and whatever else was on the bullet riddled floor. Without looking back, he walked out into the humid, polluted air hanging above the city.

* * *

_Don’t you ever say I just walked away / I will always want you / I can’t live a lie, running for my life / I will always want you_

_-Jasmine Thompson, “Wrecking Ball”_

* * *

One thing Sebastian Stan did that was helpful was he hid stockpiles of cash all over the place. It took him less than a month to gather all the hidden cash stolen from various HYDRA strong holds. He used some of it to buy himself passage on a cargo ship across the Atlantic. He snuck into Europe and lost himself in various large cities (hiding the cash along the way). Because he now remembered being the Asset, he had a wealth of languages available to him and used them in order to blend in with his environment. He got a squat in a busy city, not bothering to really think about where he was. (Later he found out it was Bucharest, Romania. Oddly, a place he’d never killed anyone, likely why he’d wound up there.)

After he’d been sitting for a few weeks, he grew angry. He’d wasted a year discovering who he was only to have it killed by some idiots.

He raged. He’d leave the city limits and find a heavily forested area and punch the ground until he was in a hole, then fill the hole in. He did this hundreds of times till he ran out of anger. After that, he lay on the floor of his squat on the pitiful mattress-like thing he’d cobbled together and stared the moldy ceiling.

He wasn’t sure what the hell was going to happen to him, but he was sure of one thing: he missed her.

He began writing everything he remembered down. He filled notebooks. He kept everything in a backpack and hid it under the floor boards. He would sit at night and read through the notebooks when he was unable to sleep. Days, weeks, months crept by and suddenly it had been a year since the whole Ultron thing. In two more months, Sebastian Stan would be dead for a year. 

He felt sad when he realized he hadn’t even really known Sebastian had died the day his childhood memories had come flooding back. He knew Sebastian hadn’t realized he’d died, but Jess had. The woman had realized it, knew that Sebastian was gone. Reading the memory now, he could see her reaction was out of loss.

She’d lost the guy she’d been living with, getting to know. He was gone the moment the Brooklyn accent popped out. Shortly after, he’d gone off to do one last HYDRA hunting mission. Three months later, the hallowed out being was filled with a lifetime of memories— everything from early childhood to that final mission.

He scratched his head and let his long hair fall into his eyes (his hair grew stupidly fast). He scrubbed his face (his five o’clock shadow was more like a ten AM o’clock shadow) and sighed deeply. Lately he’d been feeling more stable. He was still no where near mentally healthy, but he liked his little life he’d carved out for himself. He went to the market each morning, bought plums (or whatever fruit was in season), grabbed fresh meat (or bought beans), and went back to his hovel and kept to himself.

He was living in the one country he’d never killed anyone— as Bucky, James, Sebastian, or the Asset. Here, no one had died at his hands. Here, no one knew him.

He missed Steve like a limb (or another limb, as he also missed her like a limb), but Steve was too high profile for him to contact. And too stupid. Steve, his boyfriend, and that other looby were still looking for him. While he didn’t have the ability to track their progress in their search, he knew they’d be following false leads. It was what the trio did in their spare time.

Not that he knew what the boyfriend did when he wasn’t looking for Bucky/James/Sebastian. Steve and the flying looby were Avengers. Every time they screwed something up, it was on TV screens everywhere. The boyfriend, though, was never on the TV with them.

* * *

_Bring your heart, I’ll bring my soul / But be delicate with my ego / I want to step into your great unknown / With you and me setting the tone_

_-Adele, “I Miss You”_

* * *

He didn’t talk often. He never felt like he needed to talk to anyone. He knew human beings weren’t solitary creatures and it would damage him mentally if he never interacted with others, hence why he went to the market each morning. He interacted with humans there: spoke politely, haggled, and thanked them.

He got comfortable.

Part of him knew he shouldn’t get comfortable in his new life. Each time he ever did, something massively went wrong. Bucky was comfortable in Brooklyn and living in a nice joint. Then the Depression happened. He and Stevie had just gotten back on their feet and he was drafted into the Army. He’d finally gotten the hang of being in the Army, and he got captured. For seventy years nothing went right and he was never comfortable, as he was under mind control and slowly going crazy. Then, it was over and he ran away to Alaska after some stupid feeling. He got comfortable there and it was ripped away by his own mind.

Still, he was unable to stop getting comfortable in his new life, his unremarkable life. But, all good things come to an end.

So, yeah, he wasn’t surprised in the least when one day he entered the flat to find a woman in a navy polka dot sundress sitting at his kitchen table, tapping a bright red fingernail against the cheap surface.

“You suck,” the woman proclaimed. “You suck so hard, I don’t even have a word for how much you suck.”

He blinked several times.

“How did you get in here?” he asked, his voice sounding rusty.

“I know people.”

His eyes scanned the entire flat, not finding anything out of place other than the huge, bright ass backpack sitting next to the door (How had he missed that when he entered?). He looked back at the woman, his heart racing.

He wasn’t sure if it was racing due to who the woman was or the fact she’d snuck up on him.

“People who are currently not on this planet, so chill.”

She stopped tapping her nails and folded her arms across her chest.

“And all he did was tell me where you were. I had to get here myself,” she grumped. “Without anyone noticing. I walked a lot.”

“You walked? Don’t you live in Alaska?”

“I walked into Romania. I quit my job and announced I was backpacking through Europe. I ditched my StarkPhone with Barton and my iPhone has been off since I left. I used my passport to get in this country, but I haven’t used it since. And I’m really good at avoiding CCTV. I trained with the best.”

He frowned. “Who trained you?”

“I watched you,” she replied. “So, why are you living in this hovel?”

“It’s my home.”

“Yeah, I got that much, Seb, but why are you here in Romania as opposed to Alaska? Why didn’t you come home?”

“This is my home.”

“Fine, this is your home! Why’d you just go AWOL?”

“I was kidnapped,” he stated, edging around the room till he was near where his mattress sat on the ground.

“By who?”

“HYDRA faction that wished to reactive the Winter Solider,” he ground out. “I don’t do that anymore.”

“You didn’t before.”

“I did. I don’t do that anymore. Any of it. I remember everything that’s happened to me for my entire life. From 1917 till 2016.”

The woman made a face. “Okay, uh, that sucks. But, Seb, why did you come back after that? I told Steve you were staying with me. Is that why? Because I let Steve know I’d known where you were? I thought—”

“I remember every. Single. Person. I. Killed. I watched it happen, watched my hands do things I didn’t want them to do. Everything the Asset did, I remember.”

He watched her digest the information for a solid ten minutes before she swallowed and squared her shoulders.

A part of his heart sank.

“Fine. Do you think you’re some big, dangerous dog or something? That you can’t be around me any more? Or is that Sebastian wasn’t really you and now you’re Bucky again and you thought I’d not like you?”

“It wasn’t safe—”

He instantly ducked when the tea kettle came flying at his head. He didn’t know why he ducked as she was a mile off from actually hitting him.

She had horrible aim.

He could have also caught the thing if it’d come anywhere near his face.

“Don’t give me that crap about you not being safe. Since you went MIA, you’ve been completely off the radar. At first you left a trail that Loki could follow, but then it went dry in Mexico City and Steve and company were back to following whisps. That’s where HYDRA caught up to you, right? And did whatever to make you fully remember?”

“I do not fully remember, there are lots of holes,” he admitted, scowling. “But it’s mostly there. I write down…memories. It’s hard…trying to remember ninety-nine years worth of crap. But I can remember enough to piece together a timeline.”

“Well, for the first several years, you likely don’t remember due to the fact you were a child and they don’t remember the first three years of life usually.”

“Do you?”

“No. Actually, much of my childhood was wiped out by my mother when she sealed my magic when I was eight,” Jess answered, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “And what I remember is spotty, so I’m missing eight years of my childhood, plus two months when I went time traveling. You remember that now?”

“Yes.”

“What did I do?”

“Said a lot of things that made no sense and used Loki’s spear on me to create two separate consciousness,” he answered, peeking at her through his long hair.

“I’m sorry. That likely didn’t help very much, did it?”

“No. But, it did help in the sense that after…I was knocked out on the Hellicarrier, I was able to…whatever I did with you for a year.”

Jess studied him carefully. “Do you…do you not want to be Sebastian? Or are you trying to tell me that he doesn’t exist?”

“I still exist. Sebastian, Bucky, the Asset. We’re all in here and we’re all the same. There’s been only one voice since I was knocked out on the Hellicarrier,” he explained. “I guess the two were put back together, but I didn’t have access to my past. I was…just there. Then, as time wore on, I guess my brain fixed itself and I got Bucky’s memories back. Well, most of them. To the point I felt comfortable enough, but then those HYDRA idiots did something and I remembered most of what else I was missing.”

“Why didn’t you come back?”

“I remembered. And the most horrible thing…I did everything. It was me who was the Asset, not a separate personality or anything. All they did was take out my memories, take out the things that gave me morals, gave me a sense of right and wrong. My skills…talents, they left those, they honed those. People think the Asset was just a shell, a weapon to point, but it was me. Me without my memories. You don’t realize how important memories are to a person till they’re gone and come back.”

He coughed. It’d been a long time since he’d spoken, let alone said so many words at once. He peeked at Jess after he’d stopped coughing.

He’d forgotten how beautiful her eyes were.

“Why is your hair brown?”

“So I don’t stick out,” she replied. “Plus, if I was backpacking, I’d not have the time to bleach and color it as I was and everyone knows I hate roots.”

He nodded absently, coughing again.

Jess stood up swiftly and moved around the table, the skirt of her dress flowing out behind her. She grabbed a glass from the shelf, filled it with water, then thrust it into his hand. He flinched, as the one she put it in was his metal hand.

She heaved a deep sigh.

“Is Sebastian even in there?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to call you Seb? Or do you want me to call you Bucky? Or something else all together?”

He gulped the water, swallowing loudly. He cleared his throat and said, “Seb. Bucky still sounds wrong comin’ out of your mouth.”

* * *

_I wish I was like you, easily amused / Find my nest of salt, everything is my fault / I’ll take all the blame_

_-Nirvana, “All Apologies”_

* * *

Sebastian (he still liked that name more than Bucky and since he was in the boat he was in, he might as well call himself a name he liked, damn it) got Jess a fake ID and work visa. Since she was overly friendly and would talk to almost anyone, she managed to find a work as a stylist at a hole in the wall beauty parlor two blocks from their flat. Sebastian himself did odd jobs for cash. Between the two of them, they got by. Not that either needed to work given the amount of cash Sebastian had taken from HYDRA, but working gave Jess the social exposure she needed and gave Sebastian something to do with his days.

“Are you ever going to contact Steve?”

Sebastian looked up from the loft bed frame he was building. It was metal and confusing. The directions were in Swedish— which made sense seeing as the store was Swedish. What did not make sense was the fact there were several extra parts and it was taking forever to put together.

“I’m not sure.”

“You were sure before you left Anchorage.”

“I’m no longer sure.”

“Why?”

“Same reason I didn’t go back to Anchorage.”

“Seriously?”

Sebastian set down the mallet and took a deep breath. He fisted his hands and stared at the grimy floor. (He had tried to clean it, but it simply would not come clean.) “I killed Stark’s parents.”

“Howard?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He had something HYDRA wanted in his trunk,” Sebastian explained. He didn’t want to tell her what was in the trunk. Hell, he didn’t want to tell anyone. Ever. “The memory is patchy, but I know what I did. I killed them both. She was innocent.”

“Mrs Stark?”

Sebastian nodded, un-fisting his hands, then fisting them again. “She had no idea what Howard did in his spare time. She wasn’t even mentioned in the file passed a relation.”

“Really?”

“Well, what he actually did wasn’t what she likely thought he did.” Sebastian picked the mallet up once more and banged on the frame. “In 1991, they did something to me. I changed hands, I think. I mean, after I took down the USSR, I was transferred somewhere else. The memories from 1991 till 2014 are more spotty and foggy.”

“What’d they do?”

Sebastian took a deep breath. “Put triggers into my mind. I wasn’t…perfect yet. I ran away a lot, and the memory wiping only lasts so long. In the middle of missions, something would remind me who I really was, or I’d see something that reminded me of Steve. I’d run off, kill my handlers, vanish for a few days till they tracked me down and put me down like a rabid dog. In 1991, HYDRA perfected their…triggering system. They tested it out on me a few times till they got it right. They thought with the triggering, they’d be able to send me out into the field longer and remain their loyal gun instead of going AWOL all the time. Also, I might need the chair less often.”

“The thing that removed your memories, that’s what you mean by the chair?”

Sebastian nodded. “I think they figured out they needed to stop frying my brain if they wanted to use me more.”

Jess shuddered.

“If I go back to Steve, I’m going to have to face Stark. And Romanoff. I shot her.”

“On purpose?”

“Yes, but she wasn’t my target so she lived,” he quietly said, finally managing to get two pieces together correctly. “Actually, I shot her twice. Not sure why I didn’t shoot her to kill her the second time, as that was my mission that time.”

“Didn’t you shoot Steve like a million times?” Jess asked.

Sebastian sighed and nodded.

“Do you think you’ll ever want to see Steve again?”

Sebastian glanced at Jess before going back to working on the bed frame. She went back to doing whatever she’d been doing. It took him another hour to get the stupid thing together right and get the new mattress up top. He leapt up and made sure it wasn’t going to fall on his head when Jess got up there. Once he was happy, he jumped down and threw the new sheets at Jess.

“I want to see Steve like I want to breathe, but he’s Captain America. And I shot all his friends.”

“Steve Rogers wants to see you even if you did shoot all his friends. What does Captain America have to do with anything?”

“If I go to see him, the press will find out,” Sebastian insisted.

“Loki went home and the press doesn’t know,” Jess said.

“He did?”

“Yeah,” Jess said, climbing up the ladder to put the sheets on her bed. “Two months after you vanished, the night I decided to tell Steve, Loki was there. He’d just came back. He’s been helping Steve try to find you.”

Sebastian knew that, but it was nice to have first person confirmation. He sat at the kitchen table and watched Jess put the sheets on her bed. She flopped backwards once she was done.

“Tony’s not an Avenger any longer,” Jess offered. “He retired along with Clint. So, if you go see Steve, you can avoid Tony.”

“Do you think Steve knows?”

“Yeah. I think he does.”

“Do you think he told Stark?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because Tony’s got enough issues,” Jess replied. “Also, it’s no secret he and Howard didn’t exactly have a stellar relationship.”

“But, he named his charity the Maria Stark Foundation.”

“He did. I don’t know anything about his mom.”

“Why are you here?”

Jess smiled fondly at him. “Because I love you, you idiot.”

He blinked. “Why?”

Jess leapt down from the bed, landing with a thud and a stumble. Without thinking, Sebastian reached out to steady her so she didn’t flip head first into the table.

“Because you’re you,” she answered, smiling at him with a smile that spoke millions things.

Sebastian’s brain short-wired and he gaped at her like a fish.

She went on smiling.

“I like your smile,” he dumbly replied.

“Good,” she said, kissing his forehead and righting herself. “Now, what are you going to make with all these plums?”

“Crumble.”

“Oh. I thought you’d make a pie. I love a good pie. You didn’t try a lot of pies in Anchorage,” Jess said, brushing passed him and looking in the freezer. “You were looking at pie recipes on Pinterest.”

The flat had a horrible kitchen. There wasn’t actually an oven, so Sebastian had bought a toaster oven, which wasn’t as good as an actual oven, but he made it work. He missed properly baking more than he missed Steve.

Maybe they should move?

* * *

_It’s too easy humming songs to a girl in yellow dress / It’s been a long time since the party and the room is in a mess_

_-The Monkees, “Randy Scourse Git”_

* * *

“I cannot believe you.”

“Why not?”

“Because, what is going to happen when they discover you?”

“I have off shore bank accounts and fake IDs.”

“Sebastian.”

“What? Isn’t this better than the other flat?”

“Well, yeah, but this is in a better area of the city! Respectable and all that jazz.”

“So?”

“Well, uh, I always thought when you were on the run you lived in the slums because no one would look for your there…or something.”

“I want a kitchen with an oven. And counters to roll dough out on.”

“And now you’ve got it.”

“And now you can work in a nicer salon.”

“I’m going to stay where I was working. I’ll take the bus and walk. You’ve taught me how to wield a knife without knifing myself, so it’ll be fine.”

“Tomorrow we’ll go over our new escape plan.”

“For when the world descends on us?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s been almost two years since DC,” Jess said quietly, sitting at the white blond wooden table in the brand new kitchen. It wasn’t a huge kitchen, but it was defiantly an upgrade from where they had been living. And it came furnished! The only thing they moved was Jess’s mattress and the blasted metal loft frame. (And their clothes and personal effects.)

“I know. I’m waiting for my luck to run out,” Sebastian muttered, breathing in deeply the smell of cupcakes. His mouth watered just thinking about making the icing. “My luck almost always runs out.”

“You’re such a pessimist. No one’s found us.”

“Exactly. You’ve been gone for six months. Where do they think you are?”

Jess shrugged. “Here. I checked in with Clint and Loki. I told them both the same story. I decided to stay in Romania because I met a boy. We’re living together and I found a job. I’m happy. That’s what counts in their books. Well, Loki doesn’t like the fact I won’t talk to him, only email and I won’t tell him your name.”

“You could make one up.”

“I don’t want to outright lie to him,” Jess admitted. “He’s too smart for his own good. He’s likely figured it out already. I know Clint has…”

“You could go home.”

“I am home.”

They stared at one another.

“What happens when the authorities find me and drag me off?”

“I’ll likely be dragged off with you.”

“Not if you get away.”

“Have you seen me run?”

“Okay. I have seen you run and it’s an embarrassment to dames everywhere. That being said, we’ll make an escape plan. We’ll go through it. You can’t get messed up in the mess I’m likely to be in if anyone important finds me.”

“For both of us. We need an escape plan for both of us because you don’t deserve whatever they’ll do to you. They’ll likely forget you’re the longest held POW and weren’t in your right mind the entire time just so they have a scape goat. You’re not anyone’s goat but mine.”

Sebastian studied Jess for a long, drawn out moment.

“Fine. For both of us.”

* * *

_I could show you love / In a tidal wave of mystery / You’ll still be standing next to me_

_-Capital Cities, “Safe and Sound”_

* * *

“Do you know what I want?” Jess asked on evening while they were both working on dinner. While Sebastian was the one with the killer knife skills, in order to prevent fire, he allowed Jess to chop veggies. She wouldn’t touch raw meat and wasn’t allowed near the stove, so about all she was useful for in the kitchen was turning the electric tea kettle on and chopping veggies and fruit. (She wasn’t allowed to cut blocks of cheese or bread as she murdered them.)

“Better knife skills?” Sebastian inquired as he rubbed his homemade rub into the piece of lamb he’d picked up at the market that morning. “The ability to use the stove?”

A piece of zucchini hit him in the head. He grinned, but kept his head down.

“No. I want to read a really well written romance,” she proclaimed. “Like, slowly falling in love over time, them being friends first, not really realizing they were in love, but then they were and it was just it and super awesome, even though they had some major plot to work though. And a really well written porn scene, but only one. I hate stories that have way too much smut and not enough plot.”

Sebastian choked.

“Are you okay? What the hell are you choking on?”

She thumped him on the back, no where near hard enough to actually un-lodge anything, but mostly to remind him she was behind him if he started to panic and have an anxiety attack. (He had visited a doctor in Romania and was getting treatment for his PTSD and other things that were wrong with him, so now he had his own drugs. Well, some. They weren’t anywhere as good as whatever Jess had for her own anxiety, but he had sleeping pills, so less nightmares. Yay.)

“N-n-nothing,” he stuttered.

Jess moved slowly, making sure he knew where she was going till she was standing next to him. She leaned her hip against the counter and folded her arms. Sebastian glued his eyes to the piece of meat on the cutting board, knowing she wouldn’t come closer or try to turn him when he had raw meat hands.

“I thought you were a charmer, a ladies man?” she teased. “Also, I thought you were modern now. Hip. With it. Are you suddenly a prude and can’t handle the thought of smut?”

He glared at her without heat and wiggled his meat fingers at her.

“Ew,” she shuddered, moving away.

A moment later chopping noises sounded once again. He moved the lamb into the baking dish, then washed his hands. He was concentrating so hard on washing his hands he didn’t realize Jess had moved to stand next to him till he smelled her. He jolted, staring at her wide eyed. She cocked her head to the side.

“It was the porn comment, right? Not the fact I read romance. I’m sure you know that judging by the books I bring home.”

“I got no problem with porn, dollface,” Sebastian insisted, allowing his Brooklyn accent to thicken.

“Just with me wanting to read it?”

He looked away, staring at his wet hands in the sink. “No. You can read whatever you want.”

She moved an inch closer.

“And if I want to re-enact it?”

Sebastian looked back up at her and found her wearing a very serious face. “I can’t sleep with you.”

“I know you can’t sleep with me. We share a room, dude. I know you’d rip my head off on accident if I got to close during a nightmare. I’m not an idiot.”

Sebastian knitted his eyebrows together and frowned. “I don’t know what you’re asking.”

He did know. He was super uncomfortable. He hadn’t even gotten the nerves to kiss her since she’d burst into his life six months ago and proclaimed she loved him. He glanced at her lips before skirting his gaze back to his wet hands awkwardly hanging above the sink slowly dripping dry.

Jess gently sighed. “Sebastian Barnes, look at me.”

He tore his gaze away from his hands and allowed himself to look into the memorizing eyes, the eyes that led him to Alaska in the first place, led him to figuring out love and finding his footing after seventy years of memory stealing and murder. Eyes that he could easily read the love and affection the woman held for him against all odds.

“You shouldn’t love me, let alone let me near you,” he quietly said, making himself keep eye contact. “I know I don’t do that stuff any more, but still…things set me off.”

“You do know I know that. I lived with you for a year while you weren’t getting treatment. I heard the screams, I heard you smash the wall numerous times. I know who I’m getting.”

“Do you? I haven’t told you half the things I remember—”

“No, you haven’t.”

“And you should care—”

“I do care,” Jess replied steadily. “But, that’s the thing. You’re not a mindless serial killer. You did not enjoy any of the kills, did you?”

He shook his head.

“You thought it was your job, to assure peace and get rid of the bad guys, right?”

He nodded, feeling slimy. “But, it was still me. That’s what people will never understand. The Winter Solider, the Asset…was me. Just without my past memories and morals. I had my skills, my thought process, and—”

“Memories are very important to who we are, Sebastian James Buchanan Barnes,” Jess said, pushing her finger into his chest in staccato beats. “Without your past memories, who did you think HYDRA was? Who did you think you were building the future for?”

Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows together.

“You thought you were working for the good guys, you thought you were bringing peace and order to the world,” Jess reminded him. “You had no context. Context is very important for everything we do. Take anything out of context and it can be right or wrong. We do not understand things without context. We glean so much from context and for seventy years HYDRA took away your context. They scrambled your brain. How is that any different when the context of my actions when my free will was altered against my will? Hell, Barton is a good guy still and he was more mindless than me. He doesn’t remember jack shit of what happened when he was under the influence of Loki’s scepter.”

“Barton didn’t kill hundreds of influential people,” Sebastian pointed out. “He didn’t kill anyone as far as I know, did he?”

“No. I stopped him and the other mind drones from needing to kill,” Jess grumbled, crossing her arms. “You do realize that was likely what I was trying to do with you and leaving that song behind.”

Sebastian blinked, wracking his swiss cheese brain. “It…I think it was after I killed Howard and Maria Stark…” He swallowed thickly. “I…I…I think you were there, after it was done and I was making my way back to the…extraction point. I…don’t remember.”

“What do you remember about your next missions?”

“There was always another voice in my head yelling at me, but he didn’t really know too much,” Sebastian admitted. “I was never alone in my head again till Steve knocked me out. I’ve been alone in here since then.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Sebastian sighed, turning away from her and putting the lamb and veggies together. He put the baking dish into the oven and washed his hands again.

“You know, I started this conversation about smut and romance to get you to kiss me.”

Sebastian turned the water off and grabbed the towel that sat next to the kitchen sink. He dried his hands while not looking at Jess.

“You’re so weird,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, so. What are you going to do about it?”

Sebastian looked up at her. She had her hands on her hips and wore a challenging look.

“Do you really know—”

“No. But does anyone?”

Sebastian looked away, staring at a random spot on the floor.

“Why?”

“Why do I want you to kiss me?”

“Yes.”

Jess let out a frustrated noise. “I’m attracted to you, you moron! I love you, I find you sexy, and I want to jump you at the most inopportune times! Like when you’re cleaning the floor, or when you’re frosting cupcakes, or when you put that stupid ratty hat on and go out to buy fruit to put into pies!”

Sebastian blinked. “Oh.”

“You’ve never thought that way about me, have you?”

Sebastian’s face heated up. “I have.”

“Then what are we doing?”

“Living?”

“Sebastian James Buchanan Barnes,” Jess said in a warning tone.

“I’m not normal! Okay, I’m not normal and I have issues and I’m worried that I’ll hurt you.”

“By kissing me?”

“No. Yes. Yes, by kissing you.”

“Because you have a metal arm?”

“And I’m part super solider or something.”

“I’m doped up on magic apples and a fire virus.”

“But it doesn’t make you stronger—”

“It does, Seb. I heal faster than the average human and I am hardier. I’ll live a lot longer than most people.”

“Jess, I— can’t.”

She smiled that sad smile he hated and said, “Okay.”

She turned and left the kitchen. He heard the bedroom door shut quietly. Sebastian beat his head against the cabinet before he put his head in his hands and let out a frustrated noise. He had been dreading the day she wanted more, wanted a normal romantic relationship since she’d let it slip she loved him. He did not fool himself she loved him like she loved Loki or Barton. He did not think she loved him the same sense she was fond of her other friends and she sure as hell didn’t love him like a brother.

She loved him romantically. She wanted to share everything with him: her life, her body, her mind, her soul.

And that scared the crap out of him.

* * *

_I say that we’re right in the heart of it / A love only we understand / I will bend every light in this city / And make sure they’re shining on you_

_-A Great Big World, “Already Home”_

* * *

She left the next morning without telling him where she was going. Simply packed her huge backpack and said goodbye. He tried not to worry, but he was terrified she wouldn’t come back. Her iPhone was still off and the burner phone he’d given her when she’d first arrived was dead. And sitting on the kitchen counter.

She had no good reason to come back. What she wanted, he was refusing to give her. He did want to give her the things she wanted. Oh, god he wanted to. Before, in Alaska, he sure as hell didn’t. He was too messed up in his head to really think that way about her. On a basic level he knew she was very attractive, but what to do with that— that was something Sebastian never really thought about till she’d shown up in Romania. Sharing the tiny room and one tiny bathroom made him unable to avoid her like he’d been able to in Alaska. Even in the larger apartment, there was still only one bathroom and bedroom and he thought about it all the time.

All the damn time.

He didn’t want to think about it, because he didn’t want— couldn’t act on it.

She did come back. He was overwhelmed with a host of things when she walked in the front door, but simply asked, “Are you staying?”

She dumped her backpack on the floor next to the door. She dropped her keys into the bowl.

“Action Plan Seven, Seb. I’ve got it set up,” she said, sounding exhausted.

“Oh.”

She didn’t say anything more, but went into the bedroom and locked the door. Sebastian cowered in the kitchen, lying down on the floor and staring at the ceiling till the sunset. As soon as it was too dark to function without lights, Sebastian picked himself off the floor and tucked his too long hair behind his ears and got to his feet. He walked to the bedroom door and knocked. The door flew open.

“You’ve got ten minutes.”

“To do what?”

“Use the bathroom. I want to sleep.”

“Oh,” Sebastian said, his heart suddenly shattering into a million pieces at the empty, tired, broken look in her eyes. “What if I don’t want to use the bathroom?”

“You still have ten minutes.”

He had ten minutes. He studied her. She was standing ram-rod straight wearing a challenging expression, which was kind of cancelled out by the empty, broken, tired glaze to her eyes. He shut the door, cutting out the street light that poured in through the large window in the living area. The bedroom was quiet, almost pitch black dark except for the street light that was somewhere in the alley. It cast the room in dim yellow light that was almost nonexistent where he and Jess stood. Luckily, Sebastian was not the average human, nor was Jess, so they could both see perfectly fine.

He took a step towards her, his emotions warring. Part of him was screaming for him to run away, but a larger portion was roaring to charge forward. Bucky had been a charmer, a professional ladies man. He knew how to act, how to make dames feel great, and come cawing back for more of him.

Sebastian didn’t want that at all. So, he discarded everything Bucky Barnes had learned about dames before the war, and acted on instinct. He reached up with his metal hand and gently cupped Jess’s cheek, checking her eyes. They looked wetter than normal.

“Do you really know what you’re gettin’ into?”

“No. I never know what I’m really getting into,” she quietly replied. “But I do know what I want, and I want you. All of you. The good, the bad, and the ugly.”

“But not the pretty?”

“Fine. I’ll take the pretty, too,” Jess grumped, her lips upturning.

Sebastian’s lips lifted upwards and his eyes locked onto Jess’s. “I want to give you everything you want, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to.”

“I just want you to kiss me. You’ve got like seven more minutes.”

“Just a kiss?”

She nodded.

His heart was hammering and he didn’t think he was breathing any more. He glanced at her lips and gently tilted her face upwards. He felt a gently caress along his waist and shuddered. He swallowed thickly, closed his eyes and lowered his head till his lips hit hers.

He had not kissed another woman since his last night stateside. While he’d been in Europe, he’d never taken part in the crap the others got up to, partly because it’d lost its appeal, then because Steve in all his moral glory was there to entertain him (with playing cards, or just wild stories) while the others went off with dames and the what not. After he’d been captured by HYDRA (and Steve was around) booze didn’t do anything for him (which freaked him out to no end) and smoking was just as unfulfilling (still did it to keep up appearances). Since those two things after HYDRA were no fun, he assumed sex would also be no fun.

Clearly, he’d been wrong.

Not that he was having sex, he was only kissing Jess.

Masterfully kissing her, if going by the noises she was making and the fact she was climbing him like a tree.

He grasped her thighs as she hoisted herself up to wrap herself around him. Her fingers sank into his hair and he let out a noise he’d never let out before, though he wasn’t all that surprised as he loved having his hair played with as he adored having his hair shampooed.

Jess suddenly ripped her lips from his and rested her forehead against hers. They were both panting.

“Oh, god,” she breathed. “That…”

“Yeah,” Sebastian agreed, tightening his grip on her as he fell backwards into the closed door as he knees didn’t seem to be working right. “Uh, yeah.”

“You failed to hurt me.”

Sebastian nodded, his head feeling cloudy and unclear with her this close, with breathing her air, her scent, her everything.

“I think my ten minutes are up.”

“I’ll give you thirty,” Jess said, her legs tightening around his waist and her hands slowly trailing across his scalp to rest on the back of his neck gently and loosely. “Plus, how ever many years we live.”

“Now what?”

“Well, you can kiss me some more, or you can put me down and I’m going to go lock myself in the bathroom.”

Sebastian pulled his head back from hers, knocking it against the door. “What are you going to do in the bathroom?”

Jess raised both her eyebrows and gave him a look that made him turn fifty shades of red and stutter incoherently.

“Well?”

Sebastian swallowed, thinking. Or trying to think. It was kind of hard to really think clearly. But, he could think clearly. He could.

“I think I’ll kiss you one more time, then put you down.”

She pouted, but said, “Okay.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow what?”

“There can be some more…”

“Porn worthy stuff?”

“You have a dirty mind, Witton.”

“Not really. I just haven’t gotten laid on this planet,” she grumped, her fingers snaking back into his hair. “And god, you’re…”

She trailed off, her breath stuttering.

“Awesome,” Sebastian suggested, using his nose to trace her lips before planting his own back on hers.

He wasn’t sure how long they kissed this time before he pulled away. He gazed at Jess as he gently set her feet back on the floor. She was grinning wildly and did her strange dance she did when she was really happy, singing out (out of tune and horribly), “ _Everything is AWESOME! Everything is cool when you’re part of the team! Everything is AWESOME!_ ”

The bathroom door slammed shut. Her screeching continued as Sebastian went into the living room, letting the bedroom door slam. He really didn’t want to think what she was doing in the bathroom, but then again he did want to think about it, only if he did, he’d have to really take care of himself.

He looked down and decided he would have to take care of himself. He really wished they had another bathroom.

* * *

_You, where the hell did you come from? / You’re a different, different kind of fun / And I’m so used to feeling numb / Now I’ve got pins and needles on my tongue anticipating what’s to come_

_-Kelly Clarkson, “Heartbeat Song”_

* * *

Sebastian realized there were lots of things to do without actually having sex. He wasn’t sure how he forgot that, as he’d done a number of these things as Bucky. Best way not to get a dame pregnant but have fun too.

Only he became kind of desperate. Not in the sense he was gunning for it because he was denied satisfaction, but in the sense he desperately wanted that connection with Jess. He wasn’t sure what connection he was thinking about, as while he was no virgin, he’d never felt like he did about Jess with any other woman he’d ever been with before. He _loved_ Jess. He was not simply attracted to her, he _loved_ her. It was one of the reasons he’d been so baffled and confused about love before. He’d never been in love. He’d loved his family, Steve, and Mrs Rogers, but he’d never felt what he felt for Jess.

Now, though, he knew he loved her. She loved him.

And god, he wanted her with every fiber in his being.

How did people operate?

* * *

_There is no one compares with you / And these memories lose their meaning / When I think of love as something new_

_-The Beatles, “In My Life”_

* * *

He spoke with his therapist.

He called Maria back in Anchorage. (That call lasted quite a long time, as he’d not spoken to her in over a year and had pretty much vanished. But after she’d calmed down, she gave him good advice.)

He also spoke to Jess.

She told him it was his move to make.

He felt ready.

So, he made his move.

And boy was he glad he did.

* * *

_You’re my downfall, you’re my muse / My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues / I can’t stop singing / It’s raining, in my head for you_

_-John Legend, “All of Me”_

* * *

“God.”

“What?”

“I’m horny all the time now. I hate you.”

“You do not.”

“Fine. I don’t hate you. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what? I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“You’ve got bedroom eyes. I hate you.”

“You could leave you know.”

“Why would I leave? You’re super sexy and frosting cupcakes while wearing an apron. A pink polka dot apron. With a shoe on it claiming you’ll bake for shoes.”

“You are so strange. You bought me this apron.”

“And you are so opening a bakery so I can buy more shoes.”

“I already sell my goods at the market on Fridays, which is what these are for,” Sebastian reminded her. “And you should wear that shirt more often.”

Jess stared down at the basic t-shirt she was wearing.

“It belongs to you.”

“I know,” Sebastian grinned. He reached out and flicked a dollop of icing on her nose. She used her tongue to swipe some of it off. Or she tried. She twisted her head oddly and managed to fall off the stool, breaking the mood and causing Sebastian to bark out a laugh.

Jess stood up, using her finger to get the icing off her nose. “I’m a regular comedian, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, doll.”

* * *

_Do you want me to show up for duty and serve this woman and honor her beauty / And finally you have found something perfect and finally you have found…yourself_

_-Red Hot Chili Peppers, “Hard To Concentrate”_

* * *

Spring burst forth. Sebastian loved spring.Summer fruits were around the corner, plum trees began flowering, and the warm, moist air filled his nose. While in the city the air was polluted, he still loved it. He couldn’t wait till later, when summer was upon them and the city was filled with fresh fruits and flowers. While he disliked the summer weather in Bucharest, he enjoyed the fruits of it’s labor.

A morning in late May, Jess slowly tumbled out of the bedroom. She’d been sick the past few days. She still looked a little off, but she’d pulled her hair out of her face finally and was dressed in workout clothing.

“You feelin’ better?” Sebastian asked as she stumbled into small table they ate their meals at. She sat down and rested her head on the table. She lifted it after a moment and gave him a wane smile.

“I feel like I was hit by a bus, but I got out of bed and got dressed today, so woo hoo me!” She pumped her arms into the air above her head. “I need to continue my weight regime. You know, I have no coordination but I can lift five pound free weights and not knock myself out.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Other than feeling like hitting by a bus, I’m starving and I haven’t been the past two days. I don’t feel sick,” she proclaimed. “I feel human again! Hungry!”

Sebastian regarded her for a moment before he put the bowl of oats before her. He’d cooked them, but they weren’t exactly the same as American oats. Jess didn’t seem to care as she snarfed the whole bowl down and cleaned off the oranges he’d set out.

“What’s on your schedule? I’ve got work this afternoon,” Jess said.

“I’m going to the market. Pretty sure some growers got some plums in,” Sebastian said, putting the dishes in the sink to wash later. “I want to try to make fruit leather and some breakfast bars with plum filling.”

Jess licked her lips. “Fruit leather?”

Sebastian nodded, giving her a quick kiss on the side of her head. She still smelled a little off, but it was good to see her dressed and upright.

“Don’t you need, like, a dehydrator or something for that?”

“No. Just an oven and time,” Sebastian said, grabbing his coat and zipping it up. While the afternoons were usually warm and sunny, mornings were cool. And according to Jess, compared with San Antonio weather, Bucharest was heaven. “Figured I’d make the breakfast bars this afternoon while you’re out, then the fruit leather tomorrow morning after I bake the cookies for the market. Well, I’d start it. You’d have to leave it alone for a few days to dry it out. Though, I guess I could put it in the oven and dry it out. It goes low enough, I think.”

Sebastian moved over to the oven to check it out. Behind him Jess chuckled.

“Okay, Barnes. I’ll leave your precious fruit leather alone. Will it be like a Fruit Roll-Up?”

Sebastian thought for a few moments. “Yes.”

“Cool. Well, off you pop,” Jess said, standing from the table and making shooing motions. “You know I don’t like anyone watching me work out because it’s so hilarious.”

Sebastian smirked. Watching Jess work out was like watching some sort of screw-ball movie from the forties. A feeling welled up inside of him and before he could even think, three words popped out of his mouth.

“I love you.”

Jess gazed at him, giving a full blown smile that seemed to radiate from ever fiber of her being.

Those three little words had never fell from his lips, no matter how much he’d willed them out, they’d remained rooted in the back of his throat.

It felt brilliant to have them out there.

“I know.”

He swooped down and kissed her before he grabbed his baseball cap, cramming it over his head. His hair was getting out of control again. He needed a haircut ASAP. He threw the door open.

“I love you, too!”

“I know,” he threw over his shoulder.

* * *

_And all of the steps that led me to you / All of the hell I had to walk through / But I wouldn’t trade a day for the chance to say / My love, I’m in love with you_

_-Christina Perri, “The Words”_


End file.
